


Watch Us Burn - Brighter And Stronger

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Angels and Demons Verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, John Winchester Not Being an Asshole, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, Kind of a sad ending too, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sad, Weecest, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: "I would have killed them then and there, Dean, I swear, for your mother. But that’s gonna be his downfall, you hear, Dean? Mary’s sons are gonna be the last thing he sees, over his dead body.”Prequel story of how Sam L. Wesson and Dean S. Winchester came to be.





	Watch Us Burn - Brighter And Stronger

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to KaenNoMai and hpjk_addict for helping me with this :) You guys are amazing :D

 “Now remember, no matter how good you fight, your are each other’s strength, but you’re also each other’s weakness. So you always,  _ always _ \--”

 “--Have to look out for each other!” Sam and Dean chimed together. In front of them, John was on one knee to meet his son’s eyes. At their simultaneous reply, he smiled.

 “Good boys. Now, choose what you guys want for dinner, I’ll go pick it up. And get ready for bed. I want the both of you up early tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow at Sam’s loud groan, though he couldn’t deny that he was expecting that.

 “You’ve got something to say, Sam?” 

 “No sir,” Sam grumbled, looking down. With his son’s eyes not on him, John shared a knowing smile with Dean. His grin widened when Dean beamed at him. He straightened his features into something sterner when Sam looked back up.

 “Can we have Thai?”

 John’s face softened at that.

 “You got it, kiddo.” 

 Grinning, Sammy rushed back inside the house for the takeout menu, leaving the two alone in the backyard. The moment he was out of sight, Dean bounded closer to John.

 “I’m making him mac’n’cheese with marshmallows, right?”

 Hiding a cringe, John made sure to keep his smile intact, even as his stomach revolted at the thought. But he didn’t bother to stop himself from shaking his head. “How you boys managed to come up with that…” 

 Dean shrugged, looking bashful. “We were experimenting. You said we could - and you liked it!” 

 And dammit, John wasn’t one to lie to his kids, but he couldn’t wipe that smile off of Dean’s face then. “You can make it--”

 “--And the birthday pie!”

 Shaking his head again, John grinned at his son. “--And the birthday pie for your brother. You got your gifts ready for Sam?”

 Dean nodded, his head bobbing up and down.

 Patting Dean on the head, before ruffling his hair and ignoring the ten year old’s cries of “ _ I’m too sweaty and gross! _ ” John stood, groaning as his joints creaked and protested at the movement.

 “Go get Sammy and yourself showered, I’ll go see what meal your brother wants me to order.”

 By the time Dean disappeared into the house, John’s smile dropped. He twisted the wedding ring around his finger.

 “It’s Sammy’s birthday, Mary.” John said, his voice low. His eyes grew distant even as he looked through the door Dean had run off through. “Six years old, already, can you believe it? Time goes by so fast…” He swallowed. His hand dropped to his side, his other hand rising to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.

 “I swear, Mary…” John raised his eyes to the night sky, looking up to the heavens where his wife gazed back down upon him. “They’re gonna get what they deserve.” John’s eyes hardened. “And they won’t ever see Sam or Dean coming. I swear.”

 

oOo

 

 Before locking the car, John glanced around the empty parking lot behind the Chinese restaurant. He made sure the gun was tucked safely within the back of his waistband, hidden under his jacket along with the multitude of other weapons. His reflection was his only warning before an elbow slammed into his face. He rocketed towards the Impala’s window, glass cracking under pressure as speckles of red painted it.

 John quickly whirled around, trying to blink away the black spots dancing threateningly in front of his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from seeing who was in front of him.

 John growled.

 The man merely smiled. His lackey took a step away from John, but still stayed close to his side. 

 “You.”

 “Me.” The man was playing with a blade, the odd shape of it was unique to his clan. The image of a blade similar to it - hell, it could have been the exact same one - being driven into Mary’s guts would be forever seared into John’s mind.

 “What the hell are you doing here.” John said with a growl, breathing heavily. He’d fallen to his knees at some point. Disorientation must have blocked the memory of it from his mind. “You made your point. We parted ways. We swore we wouldn’t get in each other’s paths again.”

 The man hummed.

 “True. But see, I’ve been hearing things. Which I’ve got to admit, I don’t really like the sounds of, Johnny.” The man straightened. All traits of his casual demeanour slipped away, his face becoming colder. The grip on his blade morphed into something far more deadly. “Wrestling with your boys should be a playtime. Not training to assassinate me - seriously.” The man huffed with amused laughter. “Not keeping up your end of the bargain, are you?”

 John felt his heart go cold. He still tried for a cocky smirk. “Looks like even your spies can tell that my boys are coming along well, huh?”

 The man wasn’t smiling. “I warned you, John,” he said softly. “You’re going to die with the knowledge that you failed. You got your wife killed. And soon, your boys are going to join you both with a fiery blast - BOOM!” The man grinned when John flinched, but it quickly slid off his face. “You could have lived a long, merry life with your sons.” He shook his head. “You should have just stayed with me, John. All of this--” he gestured towards them with his free hand. “--Could have been avoided.” He nodded to his lacky.

 John tried to struggle. However, with his head still dizzy from blood loss, and already on his knees, the worst he could do was plant a knife into the man’s groin. With a howl, the lackey twisted John’s neck.

 John’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a small thud. The man whimpered as he fell backwards, his boss ignoring him. The man trained his eyes on John.

 “You could have been down here with Mary instead of up above,” he finished.

 

oOo

 

 “Dean?” 

 Dean looked up. His brother was peeking at him around the corner of Dean’s door frame. Putting away his knife and sharpener, he reached over to turn off his music. He beckoned Sammy over, patting the bed beside him.

 “What’s up, Sammy?” 

 Sam came in and sat on the bed, a good foot away from Dean. But when Dean extended his arm, Sam eagerly cuddled up against his brother’s side.

 “Dad’s been gone too long. Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

 When he checked the clock on the wall across from them, Dean frowned, realizing Sammy was right.

 “He’s probably stuck in traffic…” But he knew that dad was never out late without letting them know, without leaving them sufficiently prepared. And as much as he wanted to keep hope, Dean was all too aware that something could be wrong. 

 “Get ready,” he said. Thoughts rushed through his mind far too quickly. The ten year old couldn’t think right. But he _ had  _ to - because dad was late. He never was without letting them know prior, and dad  _ warned them-- _

 “We’re going out.”

 Sam peeked at him from under his long bangs. But even the hair couldn’t hide the skeptical look on the five -  _ six  _ \- and, dammit, it was past midnight, it was Sammy’s birthday, where was dad? - year old’s face. “By ourselves?”

 “We’ll just be walking around the park, if anyone asks.” Dean said. He pushed himself up and pulled Sam up with him by the wrist. He placed a kiss on the inside of his brother’s wrist before he let go, lightly pushing him towards the door. “Go on, get ready. And don’t forget your pepper spray this time,” he said. When he was sure Sam was looking at him, he grinned, tossing a wink.

 Sam groaned, rolling his eyes. “It was one time!”

 “One time too many.” Dean repeated dad’s words. 

 Dean’s stomach pulled in pain,  _ dad. _

 Sam mumbled “ _ Yeah, yeah _ ,” disappearing to his room. The moment he was gone, Dean stood frozen for a few terse seconds before jumping into action. 

 Their dad could be missing… or worse… Dean wasn’t stupid enough to take what his father had told him lightly.

_ “They killed your mother just because we refused to do their dirty work. It was their get out fee.” _

 Within minutes, Dean was armed. He bounded across the hallway to his brother’s room, knocking on the doorframe, entering anyway. He grinned with amusement when Sam yelped in surprise. His shirt fell and covered his clumsy attempt to shove the weapons down his waistband.

 Taking a moment to chuckle softly at the sight, Dean got down on his knees in front of Sam. He pushed the shirt up and held it there until Sam got the hint and held it for him. With the shirt out of the way, revealing Sam’s flat stomach, Dean got to work at positioning the weapons properly. He made sure they wouldn’t easily slip and fall down the pant legs. He didn’t bother preventing his fingers from grazing the bared skin.

 When he was done, he pressed one last light kiss against Sam’s stomach. Dean relished in the giggle his little brother let out. It turned to an outraged shriek when Dean took the chance to blow a raspberry before Sam could stop him. 

 Sam shoved Dean away, jumping backwards as Dean fell onto his haunches. Dean smiled, but his eyes were trained on Sam’s pants. “Good. They’re not gonna fall. Now c’mon, let’s go.”

Dean straddled his bike and with Sam riding precariously on the handlebars, they left through the gate at the back. Circling around the neighborhood, Dean pedaled towards the direction of the supermarket.

 Police cars were driving past them at full speed, sirens blaring. As they approached the local Chinese restaurant, Dean’s stomach sank when he realized that was where the police cars were pulling to a stop. 

 Sam jumped off the handlebars when Dean stopped a good half a block away. He threw a terrified look at his brother. Together, with the bike in between them, they walked closer to where a crowd had gathered. The people were held at bay by the crime scene tape, the bright yellow visible even from a distance. A few adults who had actually bothered to pay attention to them looked as though they were about to stop the children from seeing what happened, but Dean shoved his way past them before anyone could say anything. 

 Because he was leading, Dean caught a glimpse of the bodies on the ground first, surrounded by police officials.

 Dean paled, feeling as if he was about to throw up. Hearing Sam’s “ _ What is it, Dean?”  _ he was forcefully jolted back to the present. Swiftly turning around, he manhandled Sam away from the crowd. Ignoring his brother’s protests, Dean shook his head, once and firm. Sam shut up. His complexion came to match Dean’s.

 Dean made sure Sam didn’t look back once, even though Sam didn’t bother making an attempt. When they were a good distance away, Sam finally spoke up.

 “Was it dad?” He said, his voice soft.

 Dean swallowed. When he looked at his brother, Sam’s bottom lip was trembling. But when he noticed Dean was looking at him, he bit his lip harshly, roughly rubbing at his face with his denim sleeve.

 Dean looked back ahead. He tried to open his mouth to reply, but when he realized he was one letter away from screaming, from crying, from throwing up all over their shoes, he clamped his mouth shut, nodding instead.

 Sam whimpered beside him.

 They managed to stay silent until they reached their neighborhood, but the sight of fire engines had them coming to a halt for the second time that day. Feeling strangely empty by this point, Dean had to reach over and grab Sam’s hand. Sam clenched back tightly. Together, they walked over to watch their house crumbling under fire, the firemen making an attempt to curb the fire, but as far as Dean could see, the only good it was doing was helping the frames of their home become wet and soggy before collapsing to the ground under the weight.

 Dean knew they had to move, to leave, to get away before someone saw them…

 And he would have. In just a couple more minutes. But by then, it was too late, and their neighbor had already seen them.

 The next thing they knew, police officers and social workers were up in their faces, throwing question after question. By some sort of silent agreement, neither Sam nor Dean opened their mouths once.

 They were carted into the back of a police car, undoubtedly headed to the local station. They would later be dropped off at a foster care. They’d run away, of course, staying together - until Dean huddled down one night next to Sam and told him everything.

 Sam would be the first to go. 

 As a child, it wouldn’t be too hard for him to roam the docks, trailing Azazel, whom everyone ‘politely’ nicknamed Yellow Eyes, and later be taken under Lucifer’s wing himself.

 When Dean was sure Sam was safe, he was next to disappear. Forging documents and getting into the military at only fourteen was easy. Surviving the training, the suspicious looks, and the actual drafts was a lot harder, but he’d pull through, as a changed and more hardened, more deadly man.

 But for now, at the backseat of a police car, Dean could only hold his trembling brother close to himself, letting his own tears slip down his cheeks and fall into Sam’s hair. It was the only time he allowed himself to mourn. Dean shut himself up after that.

_ “ _ _ I would have killed them then and there, Dean, I swear, for your mother. But for your mother, all I could do, with Mary lying bloody in my hands, was to take her last words to heart. She wanted me to look out for you, and I promised I would. I promised in front of the bastard himself, and he was satisfied that you two would keep me out of the way. But that’s gonna be his downfall, you hear, Dean? Mary’s sons are gonna be the last thing he sees, over his dead body.” _

**Author's Note:**

> And thank you loads to tumblr user @deanwinbean for being my beta. Seriously, I have got to find a way to pay you somehow. For now, please accept some virtual apple sharlotka :D


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